Wasted
by skrinkle
Summary: As the years go by, Tweek's mental condition only worsens. And as much as Craig loves him, it's hard to keep up with such responsibility. Creek.


"Hey, uh, this is Craig. Is Tweek home?" Craig had already called Tweek's cell multiple times, all of which had been unanswered. This worried him, for the boy was never without his phone for possible emergencies (which could be anything, ranging from kidnapping to soul theft). Also, he had not seen him for days, and a lonely Tweek was a dangerous one.

On the other end, Tweek's mother's voice was heavy. "I'm so sorry Craig. We had to send him to a clinic last night. He…hasn't been well lately. We couldn't leave him here."

Craig was immediately in his car, driving to the address he had pressed from the sullen woman. He didn't even stop to tell his family where he was going, as if they really cared where he went at all hours of the night. Knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel, Craig did his best to stay as calm as possible. Sure, Tweek had always had problems, but never before had he had to have been sent away. A thousand hypothetical accidents Tweek might be victim to ran through his mind, each situation worse than the one before.

By their sophomore year of high school, the two had begun the first fumbling steps of a new romance, and Craig knew he'd always be attracted to him despite his oddities. He soon learned that Tweek's tension and jitters could be briefly relieved by sex and other physical attentions, but his constant paranoia was something beyond Craig's power to help. When they were young, his ridiculous phobias were something Craig found cute, always fretting over underpants gnomes and running to him for protection. As the years went by, their friends only laughed off his crazed rantings. But Craig came to find that it was no longer cute or funny. It was not funny at all. For three whole months, the pale boy ate only prepackaged foods for fear of the recently deceased coming to life and contaminating his food with decay. Times like those reminded Craig of how serious his condition was.

As the years went by, he could feel the twitchy boy losing touch bit by bit. By the middle of senior year, he knew that the one he loved so dearly would never be able to make it on his own, in the real world. Applying for schools was a task that proved to be "way too much pressure", as he would say, and holding a stable job was out of the question due to his crippling fear of responsibility and failure. This gave Craig even more reason to protect and be there for Tweek, no matter what. He liked taking care of the twitching blonde, for he had never been anything above average himself, no defining qualities that would ensure a successful life. It made him feel needed.

Despite his increased number of fits and obsessions throughout the years, Craig did not begin to realize the escalating severity of the matter until late one night when Tweek had called him in hysterics. He had been certain that someone had come into his house while he was asleep, and had hidden his house keys. Frantically, he began to search for them, until he realized that he had been digging through a loaf of bread for nearly two hours.

"_Shit, Craig,"_ He had choked between sobs. _"I...I didn't even realize what I was doing. I really thought I was looking in a logical place, nngh- I don't even remember! What's wrong with me?"_

Finally arriving to his destination, he parked and headed inside the building. The whitewashed walls and bright, sterile lights were a stark contrast of the darkness outside. He hastily made his way to the front desk, where a bored looking young woman sat behind the plaster counter with a magazine.

"Uh, I'm looking for Tweek Tweak. Can you tell me what room he's in?"

She glanced up at him, smacking her gum. "Sure, I'll send someone to take you."

He waited tensely, tugging at the sides of his hat as she tapped away at the keyboard in front of her and paged for a nurse to guide him to the correct room. He greeted the nurse as she came, and followed her muted footsteps down the gridded hallways.

"It's best if your friend stays here for a while. The interning doctor advises that he should also probably spend a little time at a specialized mental hospital." She explained as she weaved her way through the halls.

"What? Why? He's never hurt anyone."

"Well, if he's left alone and without supervision as of now, it would be very likely for him to end up seriously injuring _himself_. Or even…" She paused, weighing the importance of her next comment. "Killing himself. But we're just being cautious."

Craig scoffed at that. He knew that Tweek could never be capable enough of killing himself. At least…not on purpose.

"Could you please tell me exactly what happened?"

"His parents called us around ten pm last night and had him picked up. They said they had been out all day, and came home to find him digging at his own skin for cameras."

That last comment hit him like a brick. He had expected many explanations for Tweek ending up there, such as tripping down the stairs or catching illness due to leaving a window open, getting his hand stuck in the trash compactor even…but nothing like _conscious_ infliction had occurred to him. Ever. Craig continued to follow her silently, a heavy sickness creeping through the pit of his stomach until she stopped outside of one of the doors. "He's staying in here. I'll be back in a bit to check on you two." She smiled apologetically, and turned heel to attend to other business.

Upon opening the door, Craig's eyes instantly laid upon the thin form of his best friend. He was sitting on his bed, shaking, with his knees curled to his chest, white sheets around his ankles and face resting upon the material of his jeans. Jumping at the sound of the door, his wide hazel eyes rose to meet blue ones, a look of utterly lost desperation in them that made Craig's heart sink to his stomach. The blonde did not look happy to see him, however, instantly stiffening and looking back down to his lap.

"Tweek…" Craig said softly as he slipped through the door and closed it. There was no response.

As he slowly sat upon the bed himself, he could see that the boy looked far worse up close. The circles under his eyes were darker, more sunken in than they had ever been. The sleeves of his green shirt had been rolled up, pieces of gauze pressed to still weeping sores that covered his arms and hands. Claw marks on his neck poked out from beneath his disheveled collar. He looked like the living dead, downcast face blanched and expressionless in the harsh white lights, chapped lips parted as he breathed silently, perturbed.

"Tweek." He whispered again before pulling him into a hug. Tweek slumped into his embrace, hands reaching up to cling at his shirt. Craig combed his fingers through unruly hair, burying his face in his shoulder and holding him tighter.

The stillness of the room was rigid as they sat in silence, nestled in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity. It wasn't like there was much to say anyway.

"I'm sorry, Craig." Tweek finally mumbled, face pressed against his chest. "I'm so sorry. I…don't want to worry you."

Craig continued to stoke the back of his head, placing soft kisses along the marred flesh of his neck.

The blonde shuddered in his hold, tightening his grip. "I knew someone was watching me. I could –nngh… feel them watching from inside me. Buzzing under… underneath my skin. I had to make sure. That's all. That's why I-"

A hand fluttered to his lips, fingertips tracing the lines of his mouth silenced him. Craig lifted his head to press himself nose to nose with the other, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to well up in coffee-colored eyes. He cupped his hand around a soft cheek, pressing small, soft kisses to his lips. Tweek let his eyes close, arms sliding up to rest on his shoulders. A moment was shared with hushed, reassuring kisses before Craig pulled away, clasping his hand around the smaller one hanging onto him.

"You should come stay the night with me. I don't want to leave you here like this."

"Are… are you sure that's a good idea?"

The black haired teen gave him a peck on the nose, trying to make him laugh. "As long as you aren't hooked up to anything."

"Craig." Tweek's face, however, was serious. "I'm not that hurt."

Rising from the bed, Craig entwined pale slender fingers with his own and led the way out of the room. Once in the brightly lit hallways, he navigated them toward the front desk he had been at earlier, careful not come across the nurse that had insisted he stay. Like hell they were going to send him to a nuthouse. Craig had known him since childhood, he knew all too well that that was the last thing his partner needed. Tweek fidgeted as he checked him out at the front desk, claiming that yes he was indeed a family member, yes he was sure that the parents of the boy had sent him to pick him up, and did he really need to trouble them by calling himself to prove that he had responsibility of the task?

On their way out, he wordlessly flipped her off behind his back.

Tweek was silent the whole ride home, solemnly gazing at the stars through the windshield. Craig eyed him as the passing cars scattered shadows across his face. Reaching over, he took his hand and lifted it to press a kiss to his knuckles.

People had told him that he shouldn't waste his time with Tweek, shouldn't spend his youth caring for someone who was, quite bluntly, batshit crazy. To be honest, they had a point. Craig loved Tweek. He really did. But it was just…hard. He would have liked to be with someone less neurotic, someone he didn't have to painfully watch as they struggled against their own insanity. Someone he could have fun with, someone he could take places like the movies of clubs without risking them having a nervous breakdown. _I know you guys are best friends and you really like him_, people would say, _but don't you think you'll eventually get sick of mothering him all the time?_

But Craig knew that even if he wanted to, he would never be able to leave him. He knew that abandonment would shatter the blonde's fragile spirit, leave him a hollow shell of a human being. He depended upon, _adored_ Craig that much. It didn't take a genius to see that. He at least knew he wasn't wasting his time, because he knew it was his sole duty to watch over. He belonged with Tweek Tweak, and that was that. A guardian angel protecting the weak and lame, he would think, if he was in a particularly poetic mood.

They crept as noiselessly as they could into the Tucker house, stumbling up the dark abyss of stairs and into his room. Tweek had already begun to fumble blindly toward his bed before he flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, sitting awkwardly atop the sheets and swinging his legs against the edge. Craig lingered in the doorway for a moment before he turned and disappeared down the hallway. Upon reappearing with a box of band-aids and antiseptic in hand, he eased the door shut and padded over to sit next to his boyfriend. Crossing his legs underneath him, he began to gently remove the contaminated bits of gauze, replacing them with bandages one by one after cleaning the broken skin. Tweek looked away, embarrassed, as he did this.

"Do you want some coffee or anything?" Craig kept his gaze on his work.

Tweek shook his head, even though he knew Craig wasn't looking. "N-no thanks. I don't wanna wake your parents or anything." His eyes shifted warily around the room. "Besides, it's almost 3:30. The gnomes will be out and they'll know to catch me off guard if I go to make coffee. They know my weaknesses, man."

Craig laughed, securing the last band-aid. "Don't worry, Tweekers. My house is gnome-free." Collecting his trash, he crossed the room to throw it away, pausing by his dresser to pull out a shirt and pair of boxers and toss them to the frazzled boy perched on his bed. "Here. You can wear these to bed."

He then began undressing himself, swiping his blue hat off and pulling his shirt over his head. The blonde, however, stared dumbly at the clothes in his lap. Craig smirked knowingly at his shyness, striding back over to him to sit down once more. Undoing his haphazardly buttoned shirt and tossing it to the floor among his own clothes, he leaned in to press his lips firmly to Tweek's slightly parted ones. He ran his hands down Tweek's slender waist, opening his mouth to run his tongue against his teeth. Laying a palm flat against his stomach, he slowly pushed the smaller boy down until he was lying flat against the mattress. A familiar warmness tingled inside of him as he crawled atop him, mouth descending upon the other and fingertips exploring across bony hips. Tweek obediently opened the kiss; his tongue tentatively danced in time with the one rubbing circles around it. He reached up to entangle his fingers in ebony hair, moaning airily and pressing his abdomen up into Craig's. Craig, in turn, began to trail hot kisses down his throat and over his collarbone, running his tongue over the crevice in the center. Tenderly taking one of his damaged arms, his mouth moved across his shoulder, trailing kisses soft as butterflies against each sterile lesion.

"I love you Tweek," Craig murmured against his skin. "Too much to see you hurting yourself."

"But I didn't mean to-" The blonde was interrupted by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, a head of black hair nuzzling itself to his stomach.

Craig really thought he might cry. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he brushed kisses around his bellybutton. As much as he treasured the boy beneath him, he knew that keeping him out of trouble would be no easy task. He honestly didn't know what might come next, when the unfortunate teen would succumb to another bout of insanity. He didn't know if he would be able to get to wherever the trouble was in time to stop anything bad from happening. It scared him.

Tweek laid a guilty hand upon his head, an unspoken apology for all of the trouble he knew he bestowed on Craig. "L…lets go to sleep. I can stay in my jeans."

Craig looked up at him with slightly tear stung eyes, smiling wearily. He slid up to turn the light off, helping his friend climb beneath the sheets with him and turning him to his side to snake an arm around his middle. As he wrapped his body around the constantly shaking one that he had grown so accustomed to, he made up his mind on a matter he knew would shape the course of his life. Whenever he was needed, Craig would be there to care for who he was sure was the one person he belonged with, whatever future catastrophes may occur. Maybe he _was_ wasting his life on a wacked-out psycho, but it definitely wasn't wasted if he believed in his cause. Which was love.

* * *

**Ahhh...don't we all just love the Creek?  
I love being a secret SP shipper ^^  
**


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